


Six Months

by Areiton



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 2nd person POV, Coping, Derek-centric, Gen, Grief, Non-Linear Narrative, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 01:06:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12288003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: The worst part is--you forget.





	Six Months

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is me venting all of my emotions as the six month anniversary of my brother's death approaches.  
> Thank you for giving me this space.

You pack slowly, reluctantly. She sits on your bed, black eyes tracking your movement.

“I can still go with you,” she says and your stomach twists a little. She's a good girl, but you met her after--after.

She doesn't belong there.

You give her a small smile and shake your head and finish packing.

*

The worst part is--you forget.

You left because if you stayed it would have killed something in you. You left and maybe you projected the resentment you felt when he called, when he Skyped with you.

But there was tension, for months, until you let time fall between you and him.

You don't text as often, don't call as much, and when you talk it's shorter, surface things, for years, all through college and his start at the police academy.

He's been on the edge of your life for so long, you forget.

*

Lydia picks you up and you hug her, tighter than should. She looks fragile and you worry about her.

“How's Alli?” you ask and she gives you a smile that doesn't feel completely forced as she talks about her daughter.

Somewhere between the airport and her house, you find her hand and you twist your fingers together as you drive through familiar streets.

You don't know who is holding on to who.

*

Sometimes you see something and it reminds you of him, makes you reach for your phone to tell him and you _remember_ and it hits you so hard you can't _breath._

*

It's hard, being back.

You're far enough removed, that you don't live in it.

Sometimes you're grateful for that.

Sometimes you hate it.

You've lived away from him long enough that you think it shouldn't hurt. It shouldn't take you to your knees, with missing him.

You think you shouldn't feel his absence like a whole in you, a familiar emptiness that you've lived with shades of since your family died.

*

You stare at Scott and he smiles, this shattered hopeful thing and it feels right, hugging him.

You remember when you hated this boy thrust upon you, when you hated him for pushing you away, hated him for dragging you back.

You hated Scott until you couldn't help but care about him because _he_ did.

*

He showed up at your house, unexpected, grinning and dragged you out. It was nicer than you thought, easy dinner and drinks, talking about the life you left behind and the one you'd built and he’d watched you, eyes bright and pleased and you thought maybe you were wrong.

Maybe he never did resent you.

Maybe you could have your friend back.

*

You don't fit here, not anymore. You feel like a ghost, haunting a house that is haunted, feel his absence like a missing limb.

You sit next to Lydia as she cries and gives you a watery smile. “He loved you, so fucking much.”

You get drunk with Scott and talk about your idiotic antics when they were in high school and he giggles, tears in his eyes, “God, he hated you.”

You feel him most like this, when you’re balanced between the pack and the streets you ran with him, and you know the truth was always somewhere between love and hate.

*

You watch Liam and Theo get married and you can almost hear him, his snarky amusement in your ear and it _aches._

You want him back so much it _aches._

_*_

The wedding is on the six month anniversary.

_*_

You hate how relieved you are, to go home. You hate how much you wish you didn't have to go, but even as you wish you could stay, you know you don't belong here. You love the pack, will always love them. But it's different now.

You are closer to them now, brought close to them by him and you think if nothing else, you have that now.

You think it's not enough.

*

It was a car accident. You got the call on a Monday. You were at the hospital twelve hours later, his little girl in your lap, his ex-wife leaning into you, his father sitting shell shocked across from you.

You saw him, once. He gave you a confused stare, like he couldn't understand how you were there.

He died, three days later, and you never got the chance to talk to him.

You never got the chance to tell him one more time how much you love him.

*

You think it wasn't just losing him that hurts. It was losing everything you could have been. You were just getting him back, just starting to text again, make plans to see each other.

You were getting your friend back.

It hurt, losing him. But losing the future you could have had--should have had-- _that_ breaks your heart.

*

She doesn't understand. You don't really blame her for that--sometimes you don't understand either. You wish you knew when it would stop hurting and you hope it never stops hurting.

She kisses you and gives you space and you wander aimlessly through the house and think about what he would say, watching you brood in the dark of your living room. A choked laugh claws its way free and you feel yourself beginning to break.

You curl in your bed and let yourself cry.

*

It's been six months and you still miss Stiles.


End file.
